Leader of the Pack

by Inirat

Summary:

A collection of drabbles for the loumand microfic event 2025. The prompt, word count, and rating for each chapter are in the notes. Very late (exactly halfway), but here! The title of the work is from the song, 'Leader of the Pack' by Shangri-Las. Crossposting on my tumblr.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter 1: Without the burden of her.

Notes:

Prompt: Boat/Harbour
Word count: 77 (We've been together 77 years, Daniel. Shall we let the math of that settle?)
Rating: General

Where are you taking me? Louis wondered in Armand’s general direction, sure the ancient would hear him. Maître, the directeur, and now Arun, sometimes. An enigma. More paintings of Amadeo, maybe.

Patience, love. Louis wouldn’t hear him over the wind, the roaring of the engines, if it weren’t whispered in his head. Almost a thought of his own. Seeing the boats, the sea line, at least, Claudia will get to escape to the dress maker’s. It stung.

Chapter 2: You sure about that, Arun?

Notes:

Prompt: Teeth/Mouth
Word count: 138 (138 pounds for the metrically challenged. Metronomic, my Rashid.)
Rating: General

Arun did not know how to use his mouth, Armand thinks. Did not want to know. Feral and wild, he clawed and jostled out of every grip. Every pawing hand, every unwanted mouth was met with Arun’s bare teeth. Biting and holding- not to take, but keep.

Here in Louis’ arms, he feels contained. With Louis’ snores and eyelashes against his neck, with the whip on the floor, Armand is given the same things as all those centuries ago, only with a loving hand. Amadeo, sometimes, did not get it. The sheer amount of liberation to be found in giving up. In letting go. Afflicted with the same old episodes of fighting, high-pitched screaming that achieved nothing. Cementing him, instead. A stubborn, petulant child. A rude child. An ungrateful child.

Here in Louis’ arms, he is anything but.

Chapter 3: Your mouth as if it's heaven's gate.

Notes:

Prompt: Alter/Sacrifice
Word count: 42 (The final words of her victims. There were 42 pages, if I remember correctly.)
Rating: General

The vampires’ screams permeated the air particles. Armand’s very pores. A sacrifice to uphold the old ways. The finished ways.

Now, nothing needed to be given. Only taken. As much as Louis will give him. It flows openly and freely.

“Open, love.”

Notes:

Chapter title is inspired by 'Too Sweet' by Hozier.

Chapter 4: Can you feel my love heat?

Notes:

Prompt: Mirror/Stranger
Word count: 180 (180 year old... this coming November.)
Rating: Mature

The mirror shined above them. Shined, well… It was Louis’ reflection. Armand tries not to look at himself usually, his eyes fixed on Louis’s back pressed into his side. Louis’ legs, his hands roaming Armand’s chest. It wasn’t the first time they’d done this by any means, though it was just as dizzying.

There’d been a hunt, a stranger. The last seconds of it spent grabbing at each other, tearing at each other’s clothes. Armand had stilled, when Louis smiled and softly grabbed his hands, making them meet again behind Armand’s back. “Don’t touch, okay?”

And now Armand lies, staring up at himself, trying not to touch and trying not to see. “Just feel.” He wanted to. More than anything in the world. He could feel Louis’ blood in throat still, Louis’ cum drying from where he fucked his thighs, his left hand tucking his hair back behind his ear. He could feel himself panting, arching up and up, whenever Louis’ fingers grazed, went wandering south. But he waited, hard and heavy. He’d wait until the ends of the Earth.

Notes:

Chapter title from 'Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy' by Queen.

Chapter 5: Oh? How much?

Notes:

Prompt: Modern/Ancient
Word count: 128 (128 boys he's brought here. And you're the first he didn't consummate and drain.)
Rating: General

There had been a 'headset' coming out. Something called a Virtual Reality headset. A pair of goggles with a built-in television of sorts. Armand had his notifications on for it.

The marvels, beyond what he could’ve ever imagined, pulls him to when he sneaked out barefoot to see the writing being done by machine with his Riccardo, when he first picked up a phone to Paris with-

Now here lies the biggest box he’s ever seen, nevermind why, and Louis smiling at him expectantly. But- “You like it?” He can’t help but match his smile, “I love it.”

“Good. It was cheaper than I thought. For the demand.”

It was a box of headphones. Louis, who didn’t know what hotspot was, tried. And isn’t that what matters, really?

Chapter 6: Shut up and kiss me.

Notes:

Prompt: Stars/Moon
Word count: 514 (What's a mediocre star to a 514 year old vampire?)
Rating: General

Armand wonders what it is, exactly. What it means. Well, he knows what Louis is thinking, sure, but he wants to go deeper and deeper, know every iota of the thought behind the thought and every feeling that comes with it. What is it, exactly, when Louis does that? When almost every night these days, Louis steps into the balcony, and spends hours staring up at the sky. Looking at the moon. Every star, every twinkle of every star.

He’s sitting on the grey sofa with his silk pajamas still on, with his game paused. Well… his base got blown up. It doesn’t matter. He does get the appeal, of course. It’s mesmerizing, the sheer amount of miles your mind has to stretch to fill a fraction of space before you. But all he sees in Louis’s mind are the same few images of his mortal life. His brother. His mother, sister. No one clutches grief quite like Louis, like it’s a lifeboat. Or for quite as long. Why then-

“Your stare burns, y’know? My neck is hot.” Ah, he was staring.

“Well, how can I not? Have you seen a mirror?” Armand whispers as he slowly gets up and walks over.

Louis’s shoulders are slumped with his elbows on the railing. They hold a relaxed eye contact, longer than they have in a while. Not even while fucking.

Another whisper, “I was wondering how many nights I might have to wait for you to join me.”

Ah, to know someone you don’t simply observe them, you join them. It sounds nice to think, doesn’t it? “And this Gordon Parks fellow he put in front of me? Guy spends three or four days with folks before he even picks up a camera. Friends with them and shit.”
“Is it my place?” Armand said, letting doubt creep into his voice. Just enough, wanting reassurance, not sympathy.

Louis- thankfully- furrows his brows. “Yes? Obviously?”

“Hmm.” Armand leans in, waits, Louis leans in and they share a chaste kiss. “Well, here I am.”

“Yeah.” Louis smiles, and that makes Armand want to cry. Cry and tear out his hair, one by one.

They spend a few minutes in silence, Louis back to his meditations, but Armand can’t look away. Louis is so fucking beautiful bathed in the moonlight, it’s painful to look at. All that beauty- wasted on Armand.

“It helps. A quiet, empty place. A canvas for me to paint my feelings onto.”

“Oh..” How had he-

“What? Oh my- Armand you’ve been looking at me like one of your puzzles. And always here. I just like it here!” They always notice more than you think, don’t they?

Louis continues, “You can just ask, y’know?” A pause.

“I know. I do.” is small and soothing.

“No, you don’t! You do not. You think. You stare.” Armand is working his hand in a circle on Louis’s back. As if getting him to calm down.

Armand puts his chin on Louis’ shoulder, pouting a tiny bit, “Forgive me?”

Louis just smiles and rolls his eyes. Leans in again.

Chapter 7: Enough to get lost in.

Notes:

Prompt: Recognition/Misunderstanding
Word count: 101 (How many vampires? Not many, I'm afraid. 100. 101.)
Rating: General

Armand, of course, doesn’t miss it. The dismissive turn, the nonchalance. Lips pressed together, furrowed brows- all a dead give away if not for Louis' anger in the air. Every time Armand’s maker comes up.

More vocal in the beginning, the fight has mellowed out. Louis believes that he has been wronged. That he is has been subject to torture of some sort. This misunderstanding is quiet and slow. Though, not before a flash of recognition goes through Armand some nights.

The same sweet care, the withholding, the taking. Never quite the real thing, of course, far sweeter, but just enough.

Chapter 8: Where is she now?

Notes:

Prompt: Bloom/Wilting
Word count: 150 (A company that had been in existence for 150 years.)
Rating: General

Again, and again Louis’ mind betrays him. The more you try not to think of a pink elephant, the more you do, yes, but. The same thing over and over again, attacking him when he is elsewhere. His fledgling’s voice, Claudia’s- “Buried our meals outside-”

How is he to go on? How is he to think of anything else? “Flowers popping out of the ground, co-”

There stood Armand’s tree. Always to look at, while burying his feet. The flowers- pink, in full bloom. “Cold things becoming warm-”

She was happy, wasn’t she? But her and Madeleine’s flowers were wilting. Were they wilting when Lestat-? When they left Paris after the turning? When they met? Would they’ve, if they’d- “few cuttings from a Magnolia tree-”

His were in bloom, they’d always been. Armand had taken care to keep them in bloo-

“Love? You’re spiraling.” Armand's voice came from behind him.

Notes:

Last one! Thanks again for reading, this was so fun. 💕